


i have made peace loving you from afar (i never dared to love you any closer)

by starbooms



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kojiro's always been in love with Kaoru and that's a fact, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Tenderness, Yearning, not so one sided pining hehe, the matchablossom agenda ladies and gentlemen, the yearn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29902620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbooms/pseuds/starbooms
Summary: kojiro's been in love with kaoru for years. but he's the support character. his role is to assist and be there for when things fall apart, for when people need advice, or a meal, or pleasurable release. he's not the main character-not by a long shot. and so, he's resided himself to love kaoru from afar. he's never dared to love him any closer.he's made peace with that.
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 26
Kudos: 277
Collections: read stories





	i have made peace loving you from afar (i never dared to love you any closer)

**Author's Note:**

> warning! there is a brief scene referencing implied child abuse in regards to kaoru. it is nothing explicit nor in detail! but i just wanted to give you guys the heads up just in case. 
> 
> this fic is rated m because there's an implied sex scene. nothing explicit there either! but joe do be clapping them cheeks.

Kojiro is a bystander. 

He moves best on the sidelines. He tells himself that, at least. That when he’s far removed from the center of the circle he has a better space to navigate. A wider path for escape. From the sidelines, you can’t get hurt. On the outskirts, you only allow just enough to get in. When you watch, you don’t get the extra pain of what happens when you can touch.

Never touch, Kojiro thinks every time his fingers twitch to push a strand of pink hair away from a sharp jawline.  _ Never _ touch. 

Kojiro knows his role, and he plays it well. 

He’s a support character.

It’s nice, he thinks. As red stained lips descend on his neck. Being a support character, that is. He’s always been a hands on, fixer kind of guy. Not for his own problems, of course. Other problems were much more fascinating to tinker and put back together. He’s able to do this because he’s constantly observing from the outside looking in. It’s a skill. It’s a talent. 

Giving pleasure is a talent too, he considers. As he bares himself open and allows his partner to take what she wants. Take what she needs. He’ll gladly give her anything she wants, he promises in her ears with a rasp. She chuckles, and drags her nails down his back. The hiss that falls from his lips as the slight pain of the scratch comes is easily swallowed by her mouth on his. 

He always like to give when having sex. Because he’s a giver. Giving is something easy to do as well. 

That’s what support characters do after all, they give what they have and never take. 

This is the mantra he’s been telling himself since high school. 

When he slid open the door to their classroom to find Kaoru. They had to go home together, after all. It was tradition. Only to stumble upon him asleep at the desk. It was nearly summer then. Kojiro remembered the buzzing of the cicadas and the stiffness of the humidity that caused him to always have his sleeves rolled up to the shoulder. Kaoru always complained about the heat because of his hair, and usually put it up in a high bun. 

The evening sunlight filtered through the curtains, coating Kaoru in a soft glow. He looked ethereal. Kaoru was always good looking. But in that moment, when Kaoru was asleep to the world and blissfully at peace--Kojiro felt his heart constrict. Felt something terrible take root at the pit of his stomach. That coiled around like ivy and bramble around his heart. That refused to let go once it was planted and bloomed into a horrible infestation. 

He remembered being at the doorway, and then standing above Kaoru. Close enough to touch. And he thought-- _ I want to kiss him _ . Seeing the expanse of his neck exposed and considering,  _ I want to taste him.  _ The urge was so loud. So horrifically, painfully loud. Demanding to be acted upon. Demanding to be felt. It took root in his body like poison until Kojiro had bite his lip down to the raw. 

“Kaoru,” he said instead. “Wake up. We gotta go, sleeping beauty.”

He never stopped wanting to kiss him. Not when Kaoru roused out of sleep, wiping it away from his eyes. Squinting at him like he didn’t recognize who it was, and scowling that beautiful smile only Kaoru could make charming. 

“Ugh, a nightmare appeared.” Kaoru got up from the chair, grabbing his bag. He stopped, his eyebrows knitting together. Confusion painted over his face. “What’s wrong? You look like someone died.”

Something died. His rationality, in that moment. His sanity, in that space. Whatever barrier or guard he had left that would stop from falling into the abyss of being in love with his best friend. 

He smiled instead, he remembers. As he looks up at the woman who’s riding him. Using him. Taking from him. As he forces himself back to the present. As he tells himself that the one streak of pink hair in her head was only a coincidence. And not an itch he’s been trying to scratch for almost a decade with no success. 

He smiled then. His nerves on fire. His desire bubbling and boiling under his skin. He smiled then, to Kaoru and said, “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve never felt more alive.”

She finishes. Moaning his name and collapsing on top of him. He feels her walls clench around him. Her teeth on his shoulder. His eyes roll as the heat comes but it’s not enough. The itch isn’t scratched. The ivy and brambles do not burn away. He gasps, fingers curling into the sheets. Hips stuttering. He makes sure to not say a name. Because what would come out would not be correct. 

So he gives. Gives and gives and gives and never asks for more in return. Because he’s a support character. And that’s what they do best. 

-

Kojiro loves to cook. 

Cooking is his love language. An art of seduction all of its own. There’s a lot of love you can weave and whisk into your culinary creation. Subtly, in the spices you use if the person partaking your meal has a specific taste for things. In the ingredients, because Kojiro always paid special attention when cooking personal meals to what a person loved and what a person could stand without. 

Cooking is self care. When he’s stressed or angry or concerned or spiraling, he goes to the kitchen. He’s always been cooking. Had to make meals for himself and his three little brothers with parents that were too busy working to fulfill their parental duties. 

“It’s fine,” he told them with a smile. “I’m here. I got this.” because he’s a support character, remember? Filling in the gaps when necessary is what he was created to do. And he fulfilled the gap of caretaker so well. It’s his divine role, after all. 

He loves cooking. But he never fell in  _ love  _ with it until Kaoru. 

Kojiro brings the soup ladle to his lips, thinking back to the day when rain poured relentlessly from the heavens. And he was cooking at the stovetop while his siblings sat at the table doing homework. The doorbell had rung but he only heard, “KOJIRO!” yelled over the bubbling of the soup and the hounding of the rain.

His eyes widened. What was  _ Kaoru  _ doing here? He turned to his brothers and said, “Watch the stove for me.” as he dropped the ladle and hurried over to the door.

Kaoru’s drenched to the bone. His clothes stuck to his body. Kojiro’s eyes grew wider, “What the fuck happened?” he remembered the way his voice felt disconnected to his body. Untethered, and crawling with something-festering with something that was almost like anger but sharper. A little bolder. It wasn’t explosive, but it felt deadly. His jaw was set tight. His hands were clenched.

Kaoru frowned, lips bloody and cracked on the bottom. “I’m coming in.” he said instead, pushing past Kojiro and stomping upstairs to his room. 

“Kaoru!” Kojiro remembered taking the steps two at a time, finding Kaoru in his room taking off his clothes. “Kaoru what the  _ fuck _ ? If that dirtbag. If he-” 

“I need clothes.”

“Kaoru!”

“Kojiro,” Kojiro turned rigid from the sharp cut of Kaoru’s stare. The rain poured. Harsh, sharp wind cracked at Joe’s bedroom window. The howling of the storm outside played background to the sick lurch of Kojiro’s stomach. To the way he noticed Kaoru was trembling. To how the brave face Kaoru was desperately attempting to cultivate as a mask was failing, horribly. Crumbling to pieces as they stood in Kojiro’s room. 

Support character. He was a support character. And he knew when to push his limits. When to stay where he was. The ivy and bramble constricted harshly against his heart. A calling whirled up in him. That asked, and begged, for him to touch Cherry.  _ He’s shivering-hold him. He’s not alright-touch him.  _

But there was this line, proverbial and literal as Kojiro stood at the doorway and Kaoru stood in the center of his room. 

And Kaoru was terribly good at constructing barriers. Barbed wires and electric fences to keep you at bay-to keep you from going  _ too far _ . 

Kojiro nodded. Slowly crossing the threshold and going for his closet. He pulled out a sweater and some pants, chucking them at Kaoru. “Take a bath and change into these.” a vortex was still bubbling. It was under his skin. But it’s different from the sudden chasm of emotion that splintered when he saw Kaoru draped in sunlight. 

Kaoru’s face was bruised and his body was soaked and his entire being was draped in this paperwhite, ghostly glow. He still wanted to kiss him. He remembered that desire so well it burns his lips. It stained his tongue. It made his palms itch. But he also wanted to go to Kaoru’s house and beat the ever loving shit out of the person who did this. That desire made him see red. 

Later, Kojiro had gone back downstairs to finish cooking his meal. His brothers had ate first, then one by one he had sent them off to their room to finish their homework and go to bed. As they ran up the stairs, Kaoru came down. Kojiro overheard his brothers saying their hellos and Kaoru greeting them with his seemingly usual demeanor. “Yo brats. Yeah yeah, long time no see. Uh huh. Sure. Don’t worry about it, just a scratch.”

Just a scratch, Kojiro’s grip had tightened on the bowl he was watching. Just a  _ scra- _

“What’s this?” Kaoru’s suddenly behind him. Kojiro got a mighty whiff of his shampoo and his soap, of eucalyptus and sandalwood. His nostrils flared despite himself. The warmth, the scent, and he knew seeing Kaoru wearing his clothes would utterly decimate him.

(It did. But that was Kaoru’s power as the main character. Decimation. Utterly and seemingly unintentionally destroying anything that came within his grasp. That consumed without ceasing. That plowed through mortars and walls and people without consideration. Beautifully, and without remorse). 

Kojiro made Kaoru a bowl for him to eat. A bit of soup. And while he ate, Kojiro took out his first aid kit to patch up Kaoru. They’ve tended to each other before. With skating, they always ended up with bruises. It was an occupational hazard, so they came prepared. 

Kaoru hadn’t eaten first. He sat, bone straight, eyes narrowed intensely on his knuckles. Kojiro sighed, pulling his chair forward. He fixed on a smile as he went to work. Pulling out gauze and ointment to tend to the wound. Kaoru's eyes slid shut as he did.

“Still handsome. I’m sure the girls will love your rugged, bad boy look when you go to school tomorrow.” Kojiro had teased.

Kaoru snorted, “I’m not looking forward to that. They’ll be so annoying.” 

Kojiro hesitated with his swab, hovering a few inches away from Kaoru’s lips. Where his lip ring was a little crooked and the split on his lip was red and fresh. He swallows, a sudden thickness coating his throat. It’s the desire again, he thought. He knew it so well. The forceful, ugly feeling of wanting to monopolize and consume and take more than what he was allowed.

_ Give. You are a giver. You are the support. Support.  _

His fingers trembled. 

“What is it?” 

Kojiro jumped back a bit, suddenly met with Kaoru’s golden gaze on him. God, his eyes were so beautiful. They were the color of liquid sunshine. Of the sun setting on the golden sand and the mirror clear ocean water. They were amber and gold and everything honey sweet and in that moment Kojiro ridiculously considered what it would be like to forsake his bystander role and drown in the sunlight that Kaoru’s eyes produced. 

He didn’t. 

“Nothing, just thinking you might wanna reconsider the lip ring. If you get hurt again it might keep splitting your lip. Then it’ll scar,” Kojiro said. Then, for a moment, debated. And then, decided. That he would take-but only a little. “Here. I need to,” he went quiet. Reaching out, then stopping, then reaching out again to cup Kaoru’s face. 

He swore on that day if Kaoru asked why he did that, he’d tell him it was to steady himself so he could apply the medication properly. And not because he wanted to cool and scratch at the desire to have him, to  _ have him in all of his entirety _ , that had been invading his soul since he saw Kaoru covered in sunlight asleep and safe from the world in an empty classroom. 

Kaoru had not closed his eyes again. Under a microscope, intense and cutting, Kaoru finished his work and then closed the medical kit after putting away his supplies. “Now go eat before it gets cold.”

Kaoru devoured. He ate like a starving animal. And Kojiro found that incredibly endearing. Chin resting in the palm of his hand, he had watched Kaoru eat and eat and lick the plate clean. He chuckled, because the warmth blooming in his chest needed to come out somehow. Needed to be expressed someway-that this is affection and adoration and-

“Good?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“Fucking delicious,” Kaoru stuck out his plate and spoon. “Another.”

Kojiro gladly obliged. He fed Kaoru the rest of the bowl and watched him eat to his heart’s content. Kaoru finished off the last bit of soup. Set down his plate. And fixed Kojiro intensely with a gaze. 

“You’re a really good cook.”

The compliment was a shock, “Thanks. It was just soup, though. Nothing special.”

“Oh shut up. Why is it now that you decide to be all humble, Kojiro?” Kojiro shouldn’t have felt so deliciously delighted hearing Kaoru say his name light that. But he was. He had been. He’d never stop. “If you opened a restaurant I’d come by your place everyday for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I’m so serious.” 

Kojiro pictured it perfectly then. A little restaurant, with open and large windows. Comfortable dining and a cozy atmosphere. With him behind the counter and Kaoru sitting on the other side with empty plates of his cooking. He could picture it so clearly. A place where it was him and Kaoru and the candlelight and the sunlight and them. 

He smiled, considering the idea and enjoying the root that took place from it. “Yeah?” he hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “That’s not such a bad idea.”

Now, Kojiro feels embarrassed-quietly-that a simple, probably harmless comment by Kaoru had sparked the creation of Sialaluce. He was horribly in love with this man. He knew this for so long but to admit it, to himself, was still a feat in and of itself. Who else in their right mind would do that if they  _ weren’t  _ in love? 

The door jingled and he heard, “KOJIRO!” and like clockwork, he turned. A smile splitting across his face, unable to be contained seeing Kaoru. He closes his umbrella, shaking it off before resting it at the doorway. “You won’t believe the  _ bullshit  _ I had to deal with today at my calligraphy session.”

His smile turns warmer, as he scoops out a bowl of soup and lays it out on the counter for Kaoru. “Yeah? Tell me all about it.” he says as Kaoru sits down and Kojiro fills up a glass of wine for him, “That’ll cost you extra, though.”

-

On the outside you get to see everything for what it is. 

When he would watch Kaoru interact with Adam there would be a disgusting twist in his stomach. The ivy and bramble transformed into thorns and pierced his heart. Deeply, without mercy. Where every beat of his heart was laborious and full of torment from their incision. 

He would see the way Adam could touch and reach into Kaoru’s space with ease. Was that what fearlessness was like, Kojiro would wonder? Over and over like a record player that couldn’t stop playing. Was that the privilege of not being a support character? Of seeing where your role had the ability to evolve and take root into something else?

He would the sunlight burst in Cherry’s eyes whenever they skated with Adam, or saw him perform some amazing trick. 

Kojiro would grit his teeth and bear it, watching Kaoru’s slow descent into Adam’s charm and it was  _ infuriating.  _

Now, they’re older. And when they watch Adam skate, Kojiro glances over at Kaoru to take in his form. Take in his reactions. Take in whether his eyes are burning sunlight or raging sunbursts. To this day, he does not know if Kaoru loved Adam or was in love with the way he skated. And maybe, he’d never know. 

(He doesn’t want to. He can’t handle the confirmation in the affirmative. He cannot). 

“I’m going to challenge Adam to a beef,” Kaoru is so resolute. When he sets his mind to something, it’s firmly etched into every fiber of his being. It’s beautiful. It’s damning. 

Kojiro turns his eyes back to the screen as a flash of red and blue zooms by, “That’s funny, because I’m planning on challenging him too.”

Kaoru whips his head around, the shock evident in his expression despite half his face covered by a mask. Kaoru only smiles in return, arrogantly and a mask of his own. Because he knows Kaoru wants to bring Adam back from whatever hell he’s fallen into. Wants to believe that their friend is still there. Has hope that he can stop him from damning himself any further.

Kojiro doesn’t give a fuck about Adam’s salvation. The grave is where he is burying himself to be. And he will not dig at the ground to revive him. He will not battle demons nor devils to resurrect what little is left of his soul. But he thinks, horribly and desperately, that if he could win against Adam maybe Kaoru’s sunlight gaze could fall upon him and then he can finally experience what it’s like to be wholly consumed by the light of Kaoru’s affections. 

They’re in each other’s spaces, bickering and arguing about who gets to skate against Adam in a beef. 

And it takes everything within Kojiro not to put his hands on Kaoru’s waist and pull him in for the same kiss he’s wanted to take since high school. 

-

Kaoru’s asleep on his counter. 

Kojiro would be a liar if he didn’t admit that Kaoru coming to him  _ first  _ after escaping from the hospital didn’t make him feel like maybe he wasn’t so much of a support character after all.

_ Don’t be silly, Kojiro. This is the utmost important role a support character can provide! A space to return to. A home to come back to.  _

He sits next to Kaoru like he did all those years ago. Watching him sleep instead of watching him eat this time, Kojiro thinks as a fond expression comes on his face. 

He’s still incredibly angry. Angry and wrought with this desire to destroy Adam and S and anything that dared to take Kaoru away from him. Worried and angry that he couldn’t have stopped it. So many things, so many what ifs and whys, but all of that quiets. The storm in his mind stills as he looks at Kaoru sleeping. 

“How do you look so at peace when you sleep?” Kaoru’s chest rises and falls, his breath even. 

Kojiro watches him sleep and debates and debates and ponders before he decides, decides to just… take. 

He leans forward, hand reaching out to gently card through Kaoru’s hair. All pink and soft, even with the bandages wrapped around his head. “Only a scratch? Idiot, you’re so banged up.” and he feels a tightness in his throat. A burning in his eyes that he’s been holding back ever since Kaoru was taken to the hospital. 

He takes. 

It’s a small kiss on Kaoru’s lips because they looked soft. And his mouth was slightly agape as he slept. It’s a tiny kiss. But the impact is felt. So profoundly and heavenly-like angel choirs were sprouting from the tombstones of buried desire and yearning and wanting and singing hallelujah for finally taking. Taking and allowing himself to act on the want he’s regulated himself to never being allowed to do because Kaoru was in another space, searching for another person, for so many years and that person and space was never Kojiro. Would never be Kojiro. And Kojiro had aligned himself with his purpose of being there for when Kaoru came home. For when Kaoru needed a hot meal. For when Kaoru needed to vent. For when Kaoru worked himself near to falling apart and Kojiro was the only one who knew how to put back together the pieces.

Kojiro has always, always, always made peace that he would be Kaoru’s person in that way, and nothing else. 

“Idiot. Why’d you wait until I fall asleep to do that?”

Kojiro’s eyes snap open. Like he’s been shocked, he shoots back up. “Y-You’re awake?” he squeaks.

Kaoru’s looking at him. In that same, unwavering gaze he does when he’s looking at you fully and without taking shortcuts. Where there’s no way to hide and nowhere to run because Kaoru is  _ on  _ you. 

“I’m a light sleeper,” he yawns, slowly raising himself up to a sitting position. His gaze doesn’t relent. “Answer my question.”

“Your… question,” Kojiro’s brain is taking forever to start back up. Then it hits him. “Wait. Wait, I can kiss you?” it doesn’t make sense. How. Why. Why would he be allowed that. He’s just a support character. He’s a bystander. He’s always been there to give and give for Kaoru. Why would Kaoru give him this? This precious, beautiful, priceless gift of his affection? 

He didn’t deserve it. 

Kaoru frowns, “I didn’t stutter. What’s wrong with you? You’re not like this when you’re flirting with all your women.”

_ Because they’re not you.  _

“I’m… shocked.”

“Why?”

“Do you like me?”

Kauro’s frown deepens, “Kojiro. I fell asleep.”

“... I saw that.”

“I  _ never fall asleep like this _ . I use Carla to go to sleep. I came to you first out of anyone and everyone else. I  _ fell asleep here _ , you musclehead. Connect the dots yourself.”

Kojiro feels broken. This was never supposed to happen. He never planned for this. Never considered. 

“Kojiro.”

“Can I kiss you, Kaoru? Can I?” he’s so desperate. He needs to know. He needs to know if the conclusion he’s coming to matches the yearning in his heart that he’s fought back for years. 

Kaoru’s cheeks are burning hot. Kojiro feels his own cheeks on fire. His whole face is on fire. No, no it’s his body. His body is on fire and he realizes now that the golden sunlight he’s craved to know is looking at him. Is trailing their eyes down his body. Is falling into place on his lips. This is the scorch of Kaoru’s affections. And the ivy and brambles around his heart finally relent and it’s just sunlight.

Pure, unadulterated sunlight. 

Kaoru huffs, reaching out for Kojiro. And he falls into the opening of Kaoru’s circle. That’s allowing him to finally step into the center of the stage and experience all that his sunlight has to offer. 

“Don’t make me say what’s obvious. Just kiss me.”

Kojiro does not hesitate. Not now. Not now when Kissing Kaoru, soft and tenderly and warm, is everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s ever needed and more than everything he’s ever dreamed of it being. 

When they part, Kojiro doesn’t dare to open his eyes. Doesn’t dare to take his hand off the back of Kaoru’s head. In fear that the magic would break and he’d be back in his shop with the distance a giant, aching chasm he could never dare to cross again. 

But Kaoru just sighs, it’s soft and his breath is a butterfly’s kiss on Kojiro’s lips. “You should have done that sooner, idiot. All those years…” 

“Stupid. And get rejected?” Kojiro chuckles. “It was never me you were looking at. It was never… I couldn’t.”

“God, you’re so stupid.” And before Kojiro can ask what he means by that Kaoru’s pulling him in for another kiss. This one is rougher. More desperate. As if he’s trying to make his kiss speak all the words he cannot find the courage to say. Even though one day, Kojiro wishes he can hear it. 

“It was always you,” Kaoru whispers into the small space between their mouths. “It’s never  _ not  _ been you.”

Kojiro’s always considered himself a bystander.

But maybe, all this time, he’s been allowed to be right beside Kaoru all along.

**Author's Note:**

> yes the matchablossom agenda consists of the PAINFUL i've been in love with you for years but never thought i'd have a chance and hehe maybe it's not been so one sided all along. also yes adam is in this but i didn't want to tag him bc as far as im concerned he'll be in jail soon. 
> 
> matchablossom nation follow me on twitter ([@passionbootys](http://twitter.com/passionbootys)) so we can be besties and cry about these men who are so in love. also lemme KNOW HOW YOU ARE FEELING AFTER EPISODE 9 BC BESTIES? I'M A MESS!!!


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